Debra barely nced at the list before turning to Randy.


    "Got a hammer in the trunk?"


    "Yeah, why?"


    Debra walked straight to the trunk, pulled out a hammer, and headed back.


    Then, right in front of everyone, she hit the ss doors with the hammer and eventually smashed them.


    Randy gasped, impressed by her courage and sad about losing no money. Meanwhile, the smile on Joe''s face faded away.


    Finally venting her anger, Debra tossed the hammer aside, pulled a checkbook from her purse, scribbled an amount, and handed it to Joe.


    "Take it and return the bnce," she said nonchntly, turning to Randy. "Let''s go."


    Randy swallowed hard, still reeling from the shock about her temper. Then they drove off, leaving Joe standing frozen in ce.


    By the time they got back to the ward, Marion was already inside.


    The anesthesia had worn off, and Drake''s face was bloodless as hey on the bed. It was almost a miracle that he came around so quickly despite the severe injury.


    "How did things go?" Marion asked.


    "Juan was re-elected as CEO of the Nichols Group," Debra replied as she sank onto the sofa. "By the time I got there, the shareholders'' meeting was over."


    Randy chimed in, "But we didn''t walk away empty-handed. Debra smashed their front doors. Juan''s first task as CEO won''t be handlingpany affairs but fixing them."


    Marion checked Debra''s hands. They were red and swollen, indicating how much force she had used to swing the hammer.


    "Next time, let Randy handle it," Marion advised her.


    "I needed to do it myself to feel better," Debra muttered.


    "If it were me, I''d have blown the whole thing up," Drake weakly chimed in.


    Randy rolled his eyes. "Oh,e on.


    You


    if you''ve been a dead body r


    heart were not on the right.


    Just save the big talk."


    Infuriated, Drake threw off the covers and tried to get out of bed.


    Randy quickly ducked behind


    Marion, pointing at him with a


    trembling finger. "What the hell?


    Aren''t you shot? How are you even standing?"


    Drake''s face darkened. "I''ve taken more bullets in my life than you''ve eaten meals. I swear, I''m dragging that Backstabbing son of a gun out into the open today."


    "Sit down," Debra snapped, ring at him. "It''s already a mess. No more fuel to


    the fire."


    Drake deted, sinking back onto the bed.


    Marion asked, "Did Juan admit to it?"


    "No," Debra replied. "But that''s exactly why I suspect him."


    "That''s right," Randy echoed. "No one admits to doing something shady."


    He nced over at Drake and added, "Well, except Mr. Lowe here. He loves letting the whole world know when he''s up to no good."